The Sorceress and the Prince
by Kszaszki
Summary: Once upon a time, a curious prince found his way into the castle's dungeon, where he found something unexpected…
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.

Once upon a time, a curious prince found his way into the castle's dungeon, where he found something unexpected…

The Sorceress and the Prince

The crowded capital reached searing heat by midday. Merchants, shoppers and children weaved through the bustling, narrow dirt streets that meandered between old, cement buildings with a dull roar. The straw roofed structures provided no seclusion from the unforgiving sun.

The daily workings of the townsfolk was soon interrupted by a group of five royal knights, adorned with shining iron armor. They pushed their way through the congested paths of the area, between the sweaty masses of noon. "Make way! All make way for the King's knights!" one shouted in a deep voice, continuing further down the city's main street.

The people immediately stopped their activities as the group progressed forward, taking note that they held an individual trapped in between their large bodies. Upon closer inspection, a young woman was revealed. She walked with an air of superiority, looking forward with her jaw tilted slightly upward and shoulders gracefully pulled back, letting her thick black hair fall past them. Despite her impression she wore a thin, gray fitted dress whose sleeves reached just past her elbows. Her hands remained crossed in front of her, tied together tightly by rope. She followed the knight's lead, step after rhythmic step, no shine from a single drop of sweat marring her complexion.

The on looking individuals displayed great curiosity towards the knights' odd capture. Many would have much more easily expected a brutish man being escorted so. Murmurs spread around the group, inquiring as to the identity of the curious girl. She seemed uninterested with the gathering crowds' musings, however, as her stoic expression remained unaltered.

"Ay! What are ya doing with that girl?" a woman asked with a shrill yell from under a tattered cotton hood.

"A pretty one, ain't she?" voiced a man standing next to her. He grinned, revealing two rows of discolored teeth, arousing grunts of agreement from the surrounding men.

The knight leading the four others looked over, "Pay no mind! On with your errands!"

They continued straight until they stood in front of two large alabaster gates, extending from a wall well above eye level.

"Open the gates!" hollered the lead knight, his deep voice echoing throughout the vicinity. Soon after, the entrance opened and the group entered into a world completely different from the overheated crowds of the bazaar.

Behind the wall stood a magnificent structure of towers and spires, rising endlessly into the blue sky. Heckling and conversations were now replaced by the steady trickling of fountains, hidden under torrents of crystal water. The knights and the young woman walked along a shining marble pathway, which extended to the golden portal that led into the imposing structure.

Inside, the marble spread, surrounding the entire grand entrance. The shift in environment evoked no response from the mysterious woman, as her impassive demeanor remaining unfazed. The grand hall was largely empty and the group of knights walked into one of the slightly smaller hallways, lined with lush, red carpet with no interruption.

Sitting on one of the velvet couches that were dispersed among the hall was a man of around the same age of the knights' escort, with long white hair reaching his waist.

He glanced over with golden eyes as the small group heading towards him, looking on curiously. As they came closer, he made out another figure walking among the group of knights. Soon he found it was a young woman hidden among the silver-clad forms.

She glanced his way and her piercing blue eyes began to dig into him like daggers, compressing his chest, making it difficult to breath. Taken aback, he continued to look her way without a blink or twitch, paralyzed under her stare.

After a moment, or maybe an eternity, the small group passed and the young woman turned her head, looking forward once more. The sitting man remained still, however, stupefied at the now fading sensation in his chest. He attempted to compose himself, contemplating the odd occurrence. He had never seen the girl before and wondered what exactly she was doing in the palace, and with the kingdom's best knights, no less. The odd meeting had unnerved him, but he decided that any change from his usual schedule was welcome.

Sighing, the young man put it behind him, at least for now. He got up off the couch with a grunt and walked down the hallway in the direction the escort entered from. When in the grand foyer of the castle, the young man headed down its center, among the colossal statues that lined the entryway.

A far walk down the area was a set of ascending stairs, leading to a large throne made by intricate patterns of gilded shapes. Upon it sat a frail, thin looking man with long white hair that matched that of the young man. His deeply inset eyes looked around in the grand environment emptily, as a crown sat perched upon his head in an almost comical manner.

"Father," the young man began as he reached his sickly elder.

"Ah," emitted a crackling voice, "My son, what have you been up to? Getting ready for the ball I presume?" He barely finished his inquiry when a forceful cough escaped out of him, causing he to lean over painfully on the throne.

The young man quickly kneeled on the ground and grabbed the other's shoulder in worry, "Are you alright father? Maybe you should rest."

"N-nonsense, boy," he managed as his coughing fit subsided. Taking a greedy inhale, he continued, "I am the king and I will remain in my honorary position until my last day with this crown. Besides," he smiled lightly, "your twenty first birthday is steadily approaching and soon you will be wed, and the next ruler of this kingdom."

The boy nodded unenthusiastically, but the king continued, "If only your mother could see…." He considered wistfully, his sad eyes drifting off to someplace else entirely.

"My fair king," said a cold, yet regal voice from behind the pair. The king was dragged back into the present, his eyes falling past his son.

The prince turned back, looking upon the person who had entered the vicinity. He couldn't help but scold at the middle-aged woman who stood there stood. She continued her approach, her ornate black velvet gown trailing behind her, failing to acknowledge the other person kneeling beside the king.

"I'm afraid we have a problem." She explained without any emotion flickering within her dark eyes. Her presence could be best described as disruptive among the light blue marble of the throne room. She stood angrily, a sole black figure; only broken by a few gray streaks plaguing her black hair.

The old man sighed. "What would that be my queen?" he responded, lacking any affection towards her.

"That woman," she snarled, "is a murderess and yet you let her sit by idly in the dungeon! For once, be an expedient ruler and make off with her head before sunset!" she advised in a rage, her eyes beginning to widen threateningly.

The young prince looked on with curiosity. His thoughts drifted back to the unnerving gaze of the young woman.

"But that is what we always do with criminals. A public hanging must first be scheduled, and it takes time for such. You know that." The king explained in a pleading tone, hoping the oppressive woman would not continue any further. "Why do you insist on beheading? The public does not need to be edged on by such a bloody sight."

"But she is a sorceress!" she hissed, staring dangerously into the man's eyes. "You will be sorry when she damns us all, and it will be on your hands when this once great kingdom falls under your faulty leadership, the hands of a soft and cowardly 'king,'" She predicted mockingly. "And while you two plan some fruitless ball, she sits in the dungeon planning to curse us. If that is your will, then so be it." The queen turned in a huff and stomped out of sight.

The mournful king sighed and lifted a hand to his chest as a painful stinging began to emerge there. "Was I so wrong to want you to have a motherly figure? She was never like this before our marriage…. Did I do wrong my son? She has not taken to you as she has her child, her own flesh and blood. And now, I admit, I fear her intentions." He grabbed his son's hand, looking up at him with remorse and guilt.

"I understand your incentives," he said while glaring in the direction in which the queen had left, "But it'd be better for us all if you just threw that hag to the gutter."

The king chuckled, "Now son, go easy on her."

"But speaking of," the prince added after a thought, "who was she talking about? Was it the girl who was led by all those knights just before?"

The elderly ruler nodded. "It is so odd. Such a young, pretty girl turning out to be a sorceress. And one with a taste for death I might add!"

The prince looked down in confusion, scratching his light hair. The stare that had shaken him was not the one of a cold-blooded murderess.

The king immediately cheered up before his son was able to question the situation further, "But do not despair on such things boy! In a few days you will pick your bride, and soon after, you'll be king! The devil girl will be hanged in less than two weeks, so there is no need to dwell on it further."

"Yeah… I guess."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.

The Sorceress and the Prince

The prince walked around aimlessly, seemingly deep in thought. Through the endless corridors of the palace, he wondered on the events that had transpired throughout the day. On the one hand, was his father's continually weakening condition; only worsened by his stepmother who was just short of pushing him over the edge of his grave. Then there was the ball, just a few days away. He would choose a noblewoman to be his queen and, just a month later, his coronation would take place.

But, the prince was not focused on these trivial things, no, for he paid no interest to the great deal of power that was hovering within his grasp. After watching his father sitting on the throne for so many years he realized that the position came with no true power. He was on the way to becoming a merely symbolic figure, just an obstacle for advisors and councilors to get their policies for the kingdom approved.

But among his apathy towards the crown, there was something that really had caught his interest. There was a girl in the dungeon, a strange girl that he wanted to figure out.

His deep musings came to a halt when he heard another pair of feet steadily approaching.

A figure turned the corner, acknowledging his presence and started to come closer. It soon came into focus, revealing a tall young man with hair similar to the prince's, perhaps tinted slightly blue. He wore a mischievous expression upon his pale face as the prince standing in the opposite side of the hall came into view.

"I heard my mother gave it to that king of ours' earlier today, didn't she?" he began. Indeed, he carried the same arrogant and vain presence of his mother, addressing the younger prince in the same manner as the queen had done to the kind earlier.

The younger prince raised an eyebrow towards his stepbrother, "You agree? Well of course you do… she is your mother after all," he grunted disdainfully.

"She, as a matter of fact, would make a much more suitable ruler than that bag of bones occupying the throne right now. He's gone senile. Surely you understand the gravity of the situation we have with our new little prisoner," he smirked indignantly attempted to get a rouse out of his step brother.

The white haired young man slowly walked past him without a further glance. "Aren't you a little old to be concerned on things like this? Maybe it's time to wean yourself off of mommy dearest."

The comment earned some rude rebuttal from the other party but it landed on deaf ears, for the prince was already gone, back to his thoughts on the sorceress.

After a while, he found himself sitting at an impressive mahogany table in an emerald room. Chandeliers illuminated several portraits of past rulers that hung on the room's four walls. Across from the prince was his stepbrother, sitting patiently next to his mother. At the head of the table was placed the not too impressive king whose physical state seemed to have digressed since earlier that day.

The four were quiet as a multitude of servants filed around the table, placing on it innumerable dishes of all sorts. The smells of the abundant food wafted into the air, and soon the royal family began to eat.

"Have you thought on my proposition, dear?" The first words came from the queen, who looked upon the elderly man attempting swallow his food.

He accomplished his task, with some effort, and commenced speaking. "I have already made clear my plan of action. She is to be handled as all other perpetrators have in this kingdom for centuries. Your opinion alone will not sway such a concrete tradition."

Both the queen and her son shot a vile look in his direction before returning to their meals.

"Why is she of so much concern to you?" asked the prince, hoping to find out more on the girl.

The middle-aged woman dropped her fork on the glimmering white porcelain and stared at the inquirer. "Do you not realize she controls magics? It would be wise to take caution, she could easily bewitch someone under her spell. She killed a man and who's to say how easily she can do the same to another."

The boy sitting beside her nodded, "The woman's a threat to us all."

The queen looked at the boy and gave him a curt nod of approval.

No further exchanges took place during that dinner.

…..

The prince walked towards the far back of the castle, still immersed in his thoughts. He had excused himself from dinner, and found himself going to a destination that he almost had no control over. The once large, airy halls and grand rooms formed into narrower and less attractive corridors. Now walking between dark stonewalls whose only luminance were torches hung every few feet, the royal's ornate clothing seemed slightly out of place.

His stepmother's words flashed in his head, about the sorceress, the murderess. However, realizing that he never paid any mind to her opinions, he simply cast them off to the side.

The white haired young man finally stopped at a heavy wood door, blocked by a bulky knight who kept a constant, cloudy gaze forward. The guard's overbearing figure suggested he had overlooked the more rigorous aspects of his everyday agenda as a knight of the king. He lazily scratched his patchy red beard and yawned, leaning on the door that stood behind him.

His eyes focused when he became aware of his company.

"M-m' prince," he stumbled, correcting his posture to seem a bit more presentable. "What brings you here on this day?"

"I'd like to go inside for a moment, would you mind?" he asked with an authoritative edge.

The knight opened and closed his mouth rather stupidly, attempting to form some type of coherent phrase. "What attracts you to the dungeon, m' highness? Quite an odd place for our-uh-dignified royalty."

"I just am interested in something, is that a problem?" he asked leadingly, daring the man to challenge him further.

"N-n-no sir, it's just.. well… you must have heard we have a dangerous prisoner. M'thinks it'd be wise to avoid the place as of now…"

The prince tried to remain unresponsive to the reluctant knight. "Yes, I know of said prisoner. So please let me through, my patience needs not be tried."

After a moment, he nodded dumbly and stepped aside. "Please be careful m' lord. Wouldn't want any un-fortunes to be falling on you," he warned, genuinely concerned for the prince's well being.

"I'll be fine… just be sure not to tell anyone about this." He added before opening the door. He entered the dank space, closing the entryway behind him. The prince descended a long pair of uneven, stone steps to a straw covered floor. The only light in the area filtered through small, barred windows aligned against the low ceiling.

He walked alongside the rows of small prison cells, encased by horizontal and vertical iron rods. He then heard a faint rustle from the far end of the long row of cells, and followed the noise. Next to the last cell hung a torch, providing some extra light in the underground prison. The prince saw a flash of blue and some movement from within.

"May I inquire to the reason for the visit?" came a soft feminine voice from the cell. Its resonance comforted him in an odd way.

The prince took a few more steps forward and made out the figure of the girl he had seen earlier in the day. Her arms slid almost halfway through the square opening of the bars that trapped her, hands hanging limply outside the cage. The rest of her body was leaned slightly forward. Her eyes once again captured him in their stare and he was left completely vulnerable.

"Are you planning to answer, my dear prince?" she asked further, a touch of sarcasm riddled among her voice.

The young man shook himself out of the hypnotic like state. "How… do you know who I am?" He wondered. Most of his subjects had never laid eyes on him.

She gave a soft laugh, the sound filling the austere environment, shedding away some of its harshness. "Do not mark me as an idiot. I know what that blue jacket entails."

The prince looked down at his clothing. Sure enough, he was wearing the traditional outfit for a prince of the kingdom. His head stayed down as he felt a heat spread through his cheeks. He felt sheepish. "Oh yes… that," was all he managed when he finally pulled up to meet her gaze once again.

The mysterious young woman gave a forgiving smile. "Well, may I know why you're here? Is it common custom for the prince to greet the newest addition to the dungeon?" She remarked, raising an eyebrow as she waiting for the impending response.

The prince scratched the back of his head, thinking. "No, I just," he paused for a moment, wondering what in the world exactly brought him here in the first place. "I saw you earlier in the castle."

"Mhmm," she nodded, standing up fully and holding unto the prison bars with one hand, "and you were curious. I'm not the average prisoner, I assume."

"That's right." He knew in the back of his mind he was presenting himself as a fool but any thoughts of an intelligent sounding sentence escaped his mind as soon as he found himself in her presence.

"But weren't you afraid?" she asked, walking slowly along the bars, her hand tracing along the cold metal. "Surely you have heard what they call me. I could hex you… turn to into a," she turned forward, "… um turtle or something." She seemed unsure for the first time.

He gave her a sidelong glance at the last comment, regaining some of his articulate ability. "Well, my dear sorceress," he mocked, copying her previous remark, "I was curious, and I can imagine worse things than a turtle."

Her hand dropped and she began laughing, "You're either brave or just incredibly stupid." As her laughter subsided, she returned to her more serious demeanor. "You never really answered my first question, though, noble prince. Curiosity does not throw individuals into such a… perilous circumstance."

He couldn't stop the smile that was forming on his lips. The infamous woman standing in that very cell was having a profound effect on him, and he was becoming more and more aware of the fact that it was futile to counteract it. "I've heard some things about you… but I'm not sure. I want to know, why are you here?"

"In this dungeon? Surely you must've heard among those 'some things' that I killed a man," she told him casually, not a hint of guilt within her light tone.

The prince's smile faded quickly. "It's true then… but why?"

She backed toward the inside of the cell in a defensive stance. "That is not your concern. I am here because I killed a man in cold blood and that's all you need to know, sir."

"And you… cursed him or something?" he questioned leadingly.

Her eyebrows pressed together, "I'm a sorceress, didn't you hear? Wouldn't that be the most convenient way?" Her tone grew less and less confident, retreating back within herself as the conversation continued.

At that moment, he felt guilty. No matter what the others had told him, he still regarded her as a normal girl, and he was making her feel uncomfortable. Maybe there was a reason why she did what she did. He approached her and put a hand on the metal, looking into her prison. "I'm sorry," the prince looked down at his feet, "It must be hard… staying here."

He cast his glance upward to see confusion splayed across the sorceress' face. "You're an odd one, you know that? Perhaps the only one in this kingdom who doesn't look forward to my hanging."

The idea made him cringe. "In all honesty, I don't think you deserve it."

"In all honesty I think you are daft."

He gave her a sidelong glance and smirked.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed and who added me to their alert lists, you guys are great! Any feedback is welcome, thanks!

The Sorceress and The Prince

He made his way once again down the jagged stone steps of the dungeon, walking along the more familiar rows of prison cells. The prince continued until his eyes examined a feminine figure, sitting in the corner of her cell among piles of scattered straw. She scrutinized her hand carefully, lost within herself.

She broke out of the trance, becoming aware of a foreign presence and looked up with an eyebrow raised, "Back already, are you?"

The prince shrugged, "I decided there wasn't anything else I could do."

She nodded, "Ah, so then I'm you're entertainment as of the moment, yes?"

He approached the cell and shook his head. "I didn't mean it like that… I just wanted to see you again."

The sorceress kept her wary look, "Your oddness, my prince, continues to astound me." Her expression altered slightly, as if something had just arisen in her mind. "Am I wrong to say that there is a ball to choose the next queen coming soon? Shouldn't you be worrying over that and not a prisoner such as I?"

The prince thought for a moment before answering. "I suppose so… but the idea doesn't intrigue me whatsoever," he confessed, admitting for the first time his feelings concerning his impending marriage.

Gazing at her fingernails, she continued, "And my situation poses much more interest on your part, then?"

"It's just… I don't know…" her presence seemed to rob him of his objective yet again. "You seem so… all right with it."

The sorceress pulled her attention from the appendage. "All right with my sentence you mean?"

The prince nodded, unsure of what else to say.

She stared at the opposite corner of her cell as her dainty hands, accused of so much, fell limply on her lap. "I have no reason to fear death. Who says it's the end anyway?" she began, letting her head fall against the cold stonewall behind her. "Maybe we're all dead right now, and I'm just going to return to the living after my hanging. Who knows?"

The young man sighed and sat on the outside of the iron bars. "You really think so?"

She shrugged and started to stare off again. "Who's to say otherwise? I have a lot of time to think about it… but I'm not scared." She allowed her head to drop down and smiled for the first time since he had entered, "After all, I have to keep up my reputation. A feared sorceress should not be hysteric at her hanging."

"Maybe…maybe you could say that it was in self defense and they will spare you."

She awarded him a sidelong glance. "And peddle for my life? No thanks. I accept what I did and I know what's coming to me. The reason behind it won't matter. Opinions' too concrete."

"I've been thinking, though," the prince began, trying to get off the topic of death sentence.

"Thinking? And here I believed you were nothing but a pair of high cheek bones and dimples," she responded, a mischievous glint in her eye.

The prince grinned at the comment. "Why don't you bewitch the guards or something like that to get you out of here? I'm sure you'd be able to manage that…"

"What makes you so sure of that?" she questioned. "Plus, I've already told you I have accepted my fate. There will be no breakout attempts on my part."

"But why not! You don't need to face your mortality!" He clutched the bars as his knuckles turned slightly white, voice beginning to escalate.

The young woman didn't seem to mind. "You know, a prince should not be advising prisoners on how to escape their own castle. Do you have a problem with your kingdom? From here it seems as though you're attempting to inflict more harm than good unto it."

The prince sighed. Her resolve would not budge. "I am just concerned for your sake," he admitted as he stood up. "You're right though, I should attend to my other duties." With that he turned and was soon out of sight.

The young woman looked upon the retreating figure with guilt tinged upon her features.

…..

The entire kingdom had gone into a frenzy, preparing for the arrival of several distinguished and royal families for the ball soon to take place, to choose the next queen. The king had been so happy; for once the queen was chosen the throne was that much closer to being passed on to his own son without controversy. It seemed as though all had forgotten of the sorceress controversy. Except for the prince himself, that is, who was concerned little over the night that would produce his wife.

And, as the kingdom prepared for the event, the prince whose fate remained in limbo found himself route towards the dungeon of the castle, almost as if some external force was leading him there since the sorceress' arrival. He didn't understand why he was going back, every time he interacted with the sorceress he found himself turning into a bumbling fool. The prince wanted to kick himself after every one of their conversations.

And yet, he caught himself weaving through hurried servants who were hanging banners and preparing the palace for the upcoming event. He even passed his stepmother, barking out orders, but paid no mind.

Oddly enough, when he did reach his destination, there was no guard present at the heavy door opening into the dungeon.

The prince looked at the portal strangely, but continued into the underground passageway. As he descended the stairs, the murmurings of a few voices rang from the back of the space. Intrigued, the prince picked up his pace as his feet landed on the familiar stacks of straw.

"Now, let me see…" He heard a feminine voice say, no doubt the sorceress.

When she came into eyesight, the prince noticed she was sitting on the floor, close to the iron bars, a deck of cards spread out in front of her. On the opposite side of the cage were two knights, the heavy set one usually appointed to guarding the dungeon and a lanky, frail looking one, both sitting cross-legged next to each other. They were transfixed on the movements of the sorceress' hands.

She smirked knowingly and after a few moments of thought, her hand landed on a single card. "Would… this be the card?" she questioned, holding up the jack of diamonds.

Both the knights simultaneously took a deep intake of air in astonishment.

"Why that's bloody amazing!" the one on the right exclaimed, weaving a hand through his disheveled beard. "Now you should'a used that sorcery you know of with more tricks like these."

She laughed lightly at his reaction. "You know, maybe you're right. No more killing for me, I'll just stick to the card tricks."

The other knight nodded. "Shame a lass like you landed in such a spot. If I were the king, I would've given you a second shot."

"Well let's not dwell on those gloomy things, shall we?" she suggested gathering the cards into a single pile. She handed them through the bars to the knight on the left. Looking up as the cards were taken from her, her eyes landed on a figure standing behind the knights. "Hello, my prince, what brings you here today?"

The two knights immediately turned at the mention of royalty. "Y-yer Highness!" the frail one stumbled nervously as they both managed to stand up from the dungeon floor. "W-we were just curious… as t' why you were coming here so much and… ah."

The other one came in as his partner seemed to lose his train of thought. "A fine conversation holder she is! We won't be pryin' anymore with your visits sir!" he got out in a panic.

The prince simply nodded, amused by the knights' behavior. "Then I take it I can spend some time with her as well?"

The nervous pair nodded and quickly made their way outside.

"Some very sharp knights you have there. Wouldn't want to be getting rid of them anytime soon," she remarked jokingly as she heard the distant sound of a door slamming shut.

"And it seems as though you are getting to be quite popular with them," the prince added as the sorceress stood up from her position of the ground. "I never thought card tricks were such an important aspect of sorcery."

"A little light-hearted fun with the knights is all…" She leaned on the stonewall and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "They merely wanted to see what the fuss was about. It's not often that a prince takes greater interest to a prisoner than his future wife."

The prince frowned at the mention. "I'll worry about that when the day comes."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha

The Sorceress and the Prince

The day had come. The prince sat in a chair placed next to the king's throne as the room was filled with royal and noble families. He was, quite simply, bored. The young man had sat in the same position for what seemed like hours as countless lords, dukes, and other powerful men introduced their willing daughters to him. And now, as the ball commenced, he found no incentive to take part in the evenings' activities.

"Perhaps you should go and dance?" the king commented, looking upon the several congregating potential wives.

The prince looked around, "Maybe a little later," he answered as he continued to gaze forward with a glazed over expression.

The royalty sat without another word until a woman emerged from the masses and ascended the stairs to the throne. The prince was suddenly caught off guard. For a moment, he had mistaken the woman approaching the throne as the very sorceress he had been thinking of. However, as the woman came closer, he noticed that she merely had an uncanny resemblance to the woman. The prince looked on at her approach.

Once atop the stairs, the young woman gave a deep bow in her voluminous, pale pink gown. "Your Highness," she greeted the king. "I know it's a bit unconventional, but would I perhaps be able to steal your prince away for a dance? He seems awfully lonely sitting whilst all these dances are taking place."

The king gave a rare, kind smile. "Why of course! Son, take this lady to the dance floor."

The prince stood up on the command of his father, gave a, perhaps weak, smile, and walked down the stairs, arms interlocked with the forward woman. The young man looked upon her curiously. She and the sorceress shared extremely similar facial features as well as hair. What's more was that both women had the same type of 'air' about them. They carried themselves with a type of confidence, an almost regal quality.

"Have you been enjoying the ball?" she asked him as they stepped onto the ballroom floor. She placed a hand on his shoulder and the other interlocked with his as they began to move to the sound of the orchestra.

"It has been interesting," was all he provided, spinning her around in a circle. After all, the event excited him to nowhere near the extent it should have.

She looked up at his face and grinned, "Has anyone here caught your attention as of late?" she questioned suggestively, knowing well he had not danced, or really conversed, with anyone besides her.

The prince cast a glance over to the side, where swarms of people had their attention focused unto the dancing pair. The woman was the only one willing to approach him and in his present mood, that and the strange coincidence concerning her looks were enough for the royal, "Yes, just now I think I've chosen." He finally answered after a moment's thought.

The dark haired woman raised an eyebrow, "You know, I don't live very far from here. My father presides over much of the outskirts of the city." A sly expression formed slowly on her lips. "It wouldn't be too hard of a change…"

If nothing else, the girl was very blunt with what she wanted. "That's good to hear," the prince replied dumbly at her comment. At least he was sure of her intentions.

As the woman spoke, he began to realize more and more of the two's differences. Yes, they both had a confidence that one could almost describe as cold… but they were not exactly the same. The more he spoke with the sorceress, the more he realized she was protective, and that there were glints of a more light hearted personality when she chose to let her guard down. This woman however, the prince noted, was what could be described as confident in a manner that was, well, pompous.

When the song ended, they broke apart and the prince offered a bow. With a quick "thank you" he returned up the stairs, where his father sat.

"Father, I chose," he began, leaning in so the elderly man could hear him above the music, "the girl I just danced with."

The king beamed. "Ha-ha!" he let out a hoarse, yet joyous laugh. "That is wonderful. I had a feeling you would fancy her as soon as she approached! We have to wait until the ball is finished to announce it, for formality of course but… finally you have a queen of your own!"

The prince nodded. "I'm going to… talk to her some more."

The king's happiness grew. "Yes, of course. Go, son!"

With that, the prince once again left the throne area, but, instead of stopping on the ballroom floor, he continued to weave through the crowds. He kept his head down, attempting to earn as minimal recognition as possible, and left the ballroom. He had already decided who his queen would be, so he thought that any further time spent there would be wasted.

The prince felt much more at ease in the darker, gloomier part of the castle. When he approached the stoic guard, the prince noticed an unusual expression of surprise played against his features.

"Good to see you, sir," he began, "But… isn't that ball of yours going on as of now? Shouldn't you be choosing the next queen?"

"Already taken care of," was his succinct answer.

The knight obligingly agreed and let the prince through without another word. His visits were becoming increasingly routine for him.

After closing the door lightly behind him, the prince froze. A haunting, tuneless melody filled the dark cellars of the dungeon as the moon shown upon them. As quietly as possible, the intrigued prince inched down the staircase. The humming grew louder, overtaking his senses completely. It was as if the song seeped inside him, beckoning the young man to follow.

It carried him to the sorceress' cell. The prince limply grabbed the iron bars with his hands and peered inside. Against the back wall, only visible by moonlight, was the sorceress. She sat completely still with her head leaning against the wall. The usually long, flowing hair had been wrapped up into a bun, revealing a long neck and protruding collarbones. Her eyes were closed; moonlight reflecting off of the few droplets that flowed beneath them.

The prince remained in his position, listening to the humming of the sorceress. He was content to stay there for a while, as the sound continued to run through him.

Suddenly, it stopped and her eyes opened. The absence of the music struck an odd sensation through him.

Taken aback by the figure standing outside her cell, the young woman tensed up, as if trying to push herself further into the stonewall. When she realized who was watching her, she quickly let her head drop, rubbed her face with her hands, and looked up again.

"I thought your ball was tonight," she remarked, her voice quieter and more fragile than usual.

The prince gave her a remorseful glance, feeling like some kind of trespasser. "It is… but there was no reason to stay any longer."

The sorceress remained silent, waiting for a continued explanation. With a deep intake, the prince began. "I danced with one of the women who was there. I told my father I chose her." The reasons why he chose her, he decided to leave out.

"Aren't," she stopped as her voice gave out, cracking. She pressed a hand against her throat and attempted once again, "You don't think that's a little rash? Maybe there was a woman there you would have preferred, had you given her a chance."

The prince shrugged. "I don't think so. It seems odd, I know. But, I'm sure I wouldn't wind up happy no matter which woman at the ball I chose. I decided to make short work out of the ordeal." He was having second thoughts of coming, but not because of the ball. "I-" he cut himself short, wondering if he should proceed. Composing himself, he asked, "I didn't know you liked to sing…"

The sorceress leaned her head back, in a direction off to the side, away from the prince. "I do so occasionally. It… no, never mind."

There was a tense silence between the two, the prince wanted her to continue but felt too much unease to question her anymore. The prisoner finally broke the quiet, looking back towards him. "Maybe it's best you return. Think on the decision you made. It's important."

The prince nodded, inwardly thankful she had given him the chance to exit. In some way, he had seen something that wasn't intended for anyone's eyes.

Outside of the door, the prince looked upon the guard. "Do you know where she came from? Before she was arrested, I mean."

The knight assumed his daily position outside the door, thinking. "All I know," he finally said, "is that the other knights picked her up at some pub in the eastern edge of town. Not a good place to be, if you'd be asking."

"Thanks," the Prince simply said before turning and following the music of the far off orchestra.

"Just what are you doing here?" a questioning voice came from behind as the prince turned the corner.

His heart almost leaped out of his chest. Nervously, he turned around to look at his stepbrother, who was waiting for an answer. "I needed to get away from the ball for a moment. I thought it would be quiet around here."

The taller man raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Near the entrance to the dungeon? An odd spot to choose…"

"And what of it?" he began to get defensive. If his brother had seen him exit the dungeon, he would not be able to find a plausible explanation.

"Oh, nothing…" he took a step closer to the prince. "I have just been noticing that you've been disappearing as of late, and seeing that I've found you here…"

The prince rolled his eyes, trying to act calm. "Then maybe you should have checked my sleeping quarters. And if you do not mind, I'd like to return now." The prince turned, feeling a small bead of sweat fall from his brow.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha

A/N: I'm churning these chapters out... haha, here's number five!

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><p>The Sorceress and the Prince<p>

The prince wound stealthily past the palace guards, easily blending in with the townspeople in the unaccustomed ragged, and dirty clothes he wore. The young man headed east out of the center of the bazaar, the crowds soon disappearing as he delved closer to the edge of the city.

As he progressed, the conditions of the buildings and the persons inhabiting the streets began to steadily worsen. Soon he found himself walking amongst crumbling, dilapidated structures, holding equally depressing and broken individuals.

Turning a corner, the increasingly uncomfortable prince saw a small building where a few people congregated. Mostly men stood outside in small circles, having conversations on various topics. The young man made his way past the burly and unshaven bodies, receiving a few unwelcoming looks.

The visitor tilted his head towards the ground as he entered the surrounded dwelling, clearly feeling the effects of being in enemy territory. As his hand reached the knob of a shabby wood door and opened it, a dull roar escaped outside.

Inside the building were even more disgruntled, mammoth-like men, holding large mugs in their hands. The royal averted the gazed cast on him by his entrance, and quickly sat in a small empty table in the corner of the dim room, inconspicuously taking in the novel environment.

His vision was blurred by the staggering amounts of dust and smoke hanging in the thick air. In the middle of the room, the young man made out a platform, slightly raised above the rest of the area. It stood there, oddly empty with nothing on top of it. Around it were many of the same small, wood tables and chairs, barely holding the weight of the huge men upon them.

Breaking out of his observations, the out-of-place man looked upon a woman as she approached his table. Her hair was disheveled, and the same could be said concerning everything else about her.

"Could I get some ale for you, sir?" she questioned lacking much enthusiasm.

"Uh… yes, thank you." The young man responded, caught off guard by her presence.

With a curt glance, the ragged woman turned towards a bar that stood in the opposite side of the room.

She returned, only a few minutes later, carrying an overflowing tin mug, its shine long gone from years of use. Placing it down on the table with a loud clunk, she looked upon the man curiously. "Are there any other services you mind be needy of?" She questioned as she scrutinized his countenance, taking a few more steps towards him.

He gave a sour look at the mug placed upon the table, and leaned back into his chair at the closeness of the waitress. "I just have a few questions… about the sorceress. I know she was arrested here."

She placed her hands on her hips, seemingly disappointed. "And what makes you think I'll be giving you any answers?"

The unknown man dug his hand into his pocket, subtly flashing a few gold coins in the direction of the woman. The older woman left her mouth ajar in realization. "Well, in that case…" she began, sitting in the small chair across from him, "what type of questions do you have?"

The man leaned in and spoke in a hushed tone, "Did you know her before all of this happened?"

She placed her hand on her chin, inspecting him. "Yes. I knew her quite well. She worked here."

The prince sat up with disbelief. The sorceress in the prison of the castle did not strike him as some… bar wench.

The woman smirked at his reaction. "You know her then, don't you? Surprising that she came out of a dirt whole like this? Well, let me tell you, she was different from the rest of us." The woman looked around, motioning towards the other few woman that were winding around the room. "She was our performer. The songstress."

The white haired man stared at the empty stage once again. "She… sang for a living? But then why was she a sorceress? When did that come about?" He wondered back on the odd melody he heard a little less than a week ago, the night of his ball.

She wagged a finger at the man and held out her hand. "I think the first installment of my pay is due," she told him greedily.

Begrudgingly, the royal pulled out some of the gold coins in his pocket and placed them into the palm of the woman.

Stuffing them within her dress, she resumed her explanation. "Yes, she was different from all of us. She sang. And a very pretty, calming voice she possessed, too. But she was different in another way. You do not make much in terms of gold here, serving drinks, or singing for that matter, so often we find… other methods of acquiring income." She said suggestively, making sure the prince understood her.

"She, however, would take no part in such. Always saying she wouldn't demean herself… or spouting something high and mighty like that."

The prince smiled. That at least, sounded familiar.

"And if you indeed know her, you must realize that her position on said topic did not sit well with many of our customers. With an appearance such as hers, of course." The storyteller gave a sad smile. "She would even get the most outrageous offers, and still refused them."

"So when did she get arrested?" the young man interrupted, not seeing the point of the direction the barmaid was taking.

"I'm getting to that," she nodded impatiently. "Well there was one gentlemen, one of those with the high offers. He had more money than most of the men in this godforsaken place." She scanned the room disdainfully. "And he was quite taken with her. Every night, he'd come with the same question, accompanied by more money of course, but was met with the same answer."

The woman dazed off nostalgically for a moment. "She'd say, 'I can barely tolerate the sight of a vile thing like you,'" the barmaid repeated, attempting to imitate the voice of the sorceress.

The prince couldn't help a feeling of anger rise up inside of him as the tale continued.

"And then, one night, she just didn't show up to work, without a word. What's weirder still, is that that man who was there every day demanding the same thing of her was gone as well." The woman's head fell, facing her lap.

She began again, her tone now more serious, "But the day after, she was there, and she seemed just fine. Our songstress went up to perform, as always." The woman withdrew within herself for an instant, "Well come to think of it, she had an odd expression on her face. Rather… detached if you know what I mean."

The prince knew exactly what the woman meant.

"The man, he was there too, to watch her performance, at a table right in front of her stage. Quite happy looking, I might add. She walked right past him on her way to the stage, nothing unusual."

The prince darkened as a sickening sensation was beginning to overtake him.

"And she started singing. Well… it wasn't a real song in that she just sung 'you're going to die,' over and over again in the same fashion." The woman wrinkled her nose. "Me and the other girls rightly thought the poor thing had finally lost it, but then, to our surprise, the man started to scream in pain. He fell from the chair, grabbing his neck, and soon just, well, died."

"As she was singing?"

"By the time he fell to the floor the girl had stopped, and just smiled. The look was quite frightening, to be completely honest."

The prince rubbed the side of his head at the information. "And soon someone told the knights and they arrested her, I assume."

The woman nodded. "They entire place went into panic. Tables, chairs, overturning everywhere. They started shouting about 'black magic' and ran out of the pub."

"Did you run out too?"

The woman shifted her gaze slightly to the side and bit her lip. "I went up to her… I thought I had known her so well. I asked her 'How did you do this? Are you a sorceress?' and she just, incredibly calmly, said to me 'Isn't that the only explanation?'" The barmaid pushed a hand into her tangled head of hair and scratched her scalp. "And then I ran away. I was scared that she would do the same to me. That was the last I saw her."

The prince slowly let out an exhale and grabbed the mug of ale, drinking greedily.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do now own Inuyasha

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><p>The Sorceress and the Prince<p>

He exited his sleeping chambers; flattening any remaining wrinkles in the fabric of his typical, elaborate clothing after tossing them on haphazardly. It was well into night upon his return, the castle's halls lacking their usual visitors.

The prince began walking from his chambers, towards a set of stairs that would lead him down from the tower of the large palace. Before he reached the first step, however, the young man caught glimpse of a head of long dark hair in the distance.

"And just what are you doing up at his hour?" asked the questioning voice that belonged to the prince's fiancée, adorned in a silk night robe.

The prince couldn't help a nervous twitch before he responded, "I could ask the same of you…" remaining vague, the man stood in silence, waiting for an answer on her part.

She shrugged. "It's just so exciting," she explained, eyes looking upwards at the intricate crown moldings of the hall. "Now that I've moved in to prepare for the ceremony, I can really feel how close the marriage is coming. It's starting to feel less and less surreal… the idea of living here, with you."

The prince nodded in acknowledgment and tried his hardest to suppress a grimace at the statement. The marriage, in his mind, was still far too distant to dwell on. Yet, almost all of the palace's workers had been focused on preparations for the upcoming union. Even the prince himself was found so caught up in the events that he stopped his frequent trips to the deeper dwellings of the palace. Of course, his wedding wasn't the only thing keeping him too apprehensive to visit. And now, looking at the girl's face and who it resembled only served to further his distaste toward the idea of the union.

"How do you feel about it?" the girl standing across from him inquired sweetly, twiddling her fingers in front of her.

The man gave a passing glance towards the set of stairs he stood beside. "It's been incredibly busy. I can barely take everything in." The prince still wasn't sure what he had felt towards his abruptly chosen fiancée; but she was at least a nice girl who he could easily be amicable with.

At first, she seemed disappointed at the response. "Yes, I know what you mean," the pale young woman finally agreed, letting her shy smile return. "Despite the excitement, I'll think I'm going to give falling asleep another go. You should do the same," she advised, and with another smile, left the same way she had approached.

The prince waited until her form turned a corner and proceeded towards the staircase at the end of the hall. Every muscle in his body relaxed in relief at being along once again. He was met with no further interruptions, save for the short questionings of the knight at the dungeon door.

Once he made his way down the stone steps into the darkness, his heart began to speed up in nervousness. The last time he had spoken with the sorceress and the information he'd received from the bar wench left him a little confused about the already strange woman.

The feeling only intensified when he made out her body, facing away from him. She looked through the iron bars of a small window; entranced by the limited view it held through it.

When he reached the edge of the cell, she must have noticed his presence, for the sorceress turned with an expectant expression.

"Come to pay your last respects?" came the question in a removed tone.

The prince looked down. The comment made him realize her hanging was scheduled for the very next day. "I wanted to… ask you about the man. I know why you're in here." He paused, searching for the right explanation. "The bar… where you sang," he stumbled incoherently, unable to form a complete sentence.

There was a twinge of surprise cast upon her blue eyes as she soon comprehended his reason for coming, but after a moment the emotion disappeared. "I have already told you, I killed him. What more does his highness need to know?" The sorceress curtly responded.

The prince took in a deep breath at her bitterness. "I understand why you did it. You're not the cold-blooded sorceress everyone assumes. He truly deserved what came upon him."

The corners of her lips turned downward in distaste after she became aware of his realization. "I hate him," she confessed, words laced with venom and both fists curled tightly at her sides.

"How did he really die?"

A dark laugh emitted from her before the answer to the prince's question. "Poison. I put it in his drink as I walked onto the stage." She looked up to meet his gaze, "It was simple enough, really. I didn't understand why everyone jumped immediately to the idea of sorcery, but, I decided to go along with it."

The prince's eyebrows furrowed, "But if people knew the truth they'd surely forgive. Why would you-"

"Because!" Her voice began to rise and a pained expression came across her complexion. "I'd rather be remembered as that than a poor, pathetic songstress who couldn't take care of herself." She steadied herself and stepped forward to grip the cold, iron bars tightly. "I'm going to decide my fate. Not him," she hissed.

The prince grasped the bars above her hands, leaning on them in exasperation. "And you're going to do this by letting yourself die? Because of what he did?"

"No!" she shouted, tears threatening to form under her eyes. "I'm going to be hanged because _I_ killed someone."

"You can live on, though; and forget about all of this…" the prince trailed off, looking directly at the sorceress. "I can help. The king will listen to me. Stop trying to hide yourself behind this 'sorceress'." One of his hands gripping the bars between the two slid down to where her hand rested, tracing over the pale knuckles lightly. "Just let me help."

Her head dropped as a sigh escaped between her lips. "Have I ever told you," she started, lifting her head up once again with a smirk, "that you're just like the prince charming little girls dream about?" Two blue eyes disappeared under the woman's eyelids as her smirk widened. She let out a short laugh. "I have to say, you came a little late. I'm far too damaged for hopeful daydreams."

He allowed his hand to remain over hers, clasping it gently. "But I can still save you."

She shook her head. "Stop it."

The prince gazed upon her in confusion.

"You're going to be married. Going to be king." She explained, her eyes glimmering with desperation. "Royalty like you can't afford to trouble yourself with an unlucky bar wench like me. Let it go, please…"

The man on the opposite side of the cell was taken aback, never willingly given such a display of emotion on her part. With some difficulty, the royal swallowed the lump forming in his throat. "I know I should be… but can't you realize that those prospects do not interest me in the slightest? Let me do this for you…and me."

The hand that remained alone on the iron reached out to her, its fingertips finding their way in between dark locks. The young woman tensed at the initial contact but soon relaxed as the appendage rested at the juncture between her neck and shoulder.

They remained still for moment, before the caged girl spoke. "Well if that's the case," her blue orbs took on hint of mischief, "I'll make a deal with you, my prince."

"And what would that be?" he questioned in curiosity.

"Go on and tell your king, or whoever you need, in order to avoid the hanging," she began with a smile, edging closer to her encasement, "But you must give me something in return."

The man's eyebrow rose as he awaited further explanation. He was met, however, with no response, rather the feeling of her lips resting upon his own.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.

A/N: Hey guys! I know a few of you expected this to be a bit longer but this is actually the last chapter! Thank you so much to everyone who read this, favorited it, and reviewed. I can't tell you how much your feedback was appreciated. Let me know what you think of the ending.

Now for some shameless self promotion..hehe. Along with this I've posted the first chapter to my next story, A Path Preordained. Check it out if you have the chance, I promise you it's much, MUCH more light hearted than this one.

That's it for me!

The Sorceress and The Prince

The prince walked upward towards his father's chambers with elation. His steps were quick, dawn had arrived and there were many things he had to do. He entered the large chambers and his eyes met with his father's form among the lavish sheets of the mahogany canopy. The first sunrays of the day filtered through the large windows, unto the figure.

"Father!" he spoke hurriedly as he approached the bed, "You have to stop the execution today!" There came no response, and so the prince lightly shook the king in another attempt to arouse him. Still nothing.

In a moment of sudden realization, prince bent down next to the motionless figure of his father, lying among the red satin bed sheets lifelessly. His gingerly placed two fingers unto the pulse point of the king's wrinkled wrist, an odd sensation stirring through him.

The young man froze as he waited for some movement under his fingertips. Painfully, the seconds passed by with no response, each with a dreadful feeling looming up behind him.

Determination eroding, the prince took his fingers from the old king's wrist and clasped his two hands around his father's lifeless ones. His forehead dropped into the satin sheets the king laid upon. The prince remained there for what could have been seconds, minutes, or hours absorbed in the loss. Regrets flew through his head; times he could have spent, things he could have said. There came the sound of an opening door behind him.

The prince turned to see a dark women standing in the doorway. She looked upon the scene curiously and made her way towards the center of the room.

Before she could ask, a strangled voice came from the prince, "He's dead."

At first, the queen said nothing, but her lips and forehead tightened in a thoughtful expression. A moment of silence was exchanged between the two, the prince trying to sort out his mourn-ridden mind and figure out what was running through the queen's.

He didn't get a chance before she spoke. "I came to warn the king of something like this occurring," her eyebrows rose, and the prince seemed to notice the side of her lip curling upward, though only for a split second.

The prince, perplexed, said nothing.

"The king's health has been dwindling rapidly ever since the arrival of that sorceress. A sorceress that seems to have sparked your interest, according to my son, am I not correct?" Her long, thin fingers intertwined in front of her, "It is a rather queer coincidence."

"She's not even-"

"Are you so greedy for the throne that you conspired with the sorceress just to hasten your ascension to it? By making her kill off your dear father?" her voice rose dangerously, as she took a few slow steps towards the princes' kneeling form.

The prince's eyes widened in disbelief. "What are you saying?" He rose to his feet. "If your son has been so acutely following me than he must realize she is not a sorceress at all. Why are you doing this?"

"Guards!" she yelled down the hall before leaning into him. "To place the rightful king on the throne," she whispered as two large men entered the room. "His plot with the sorceress has been confirmed and he has killed the king! Take him to be executed along with the sorceress!"

Abruptly, the guards clutched unto each of the white haired man's shoulders and dragged him out of the room. He could hear the echoing steps of the queen's shoes behind them.

"She's lying!" he told the guards, attempted to break away. "That woman is not a sorceress!"

He was met with no response, only a tightened hold on him as the knights brought him all the way down to the entrance hall of the castle, through the gates of the city and into the town square directly in front of the castle.

The trip seemed unreal to him. It all was happening so fast. His agreement with the songstress, the death of his father, and now this. It was too much to process.

He caste out the several thoughts flying through him to take in his surroundings. Standing before him was a large wooden platform, raised a few feet from the dirt ground beneath it. On one side stood three modest seats, intended for the country's royalty. He looked on as the queen walked around him, up the platform's steps and into the middle chair, one side was her accomplished looking son and the other the prince's horrified fiancé.

The royal guards that held unto the prince followed the queen, up the stairs, where the other side of the stage came into view. There, the gallows stood. Two ready nooses hung from the ominously. The prince could not help but swallow loudly at their sight. He struggled to believe the maddening situation that had arisen before him.

He shifted away from the gallows and caught a pair of two piercing blue eyes. The sorceress stood in the middle of the platform, as stoic as ever. Her hands were tied behind her back and a group of knights surrounded her.

The prince tried to yell out, to say something to her, but he could barely hear himself over the huge crowd that had assembled to witness the execution. It seemed as if the entire city had come for the long awaited event.

However, they soon fell to silence when the queen stood from her seat and raised her hands into the air, asking for quiet.

"Today, we have the execution of two murderers," her regal voice emanated across the crowd. "One, a sorceress, and the other, the first prince of our kingdom."

Hushed whispered rung throughout the crowd at the mention of the second convicted. They had expected the hanging of a sorceress, but a prince, no.

"Each have committed a fowl crime, be sure of that! They have conspired in the death of our king!"

Gasps were heard at the announcement of the demise of the monarch.

"This greedy mongrel has killed his own father with the help of the sorceress in his thirst for power!" she looked upon her stepson menacingly, and it felt as if the eyes of the crowd were doing the same.

The prince looked upon the sorceress. She had her mouth slightly ajar at the queen's comments. Her head turned down as chants came from the crowd, calling for the death of the two murderers. The queen's word was enough to convince them.

The guards began to carry the prince towards the gallows, and the prince's heart began to beat wildly.

"How foolish you all are!" the sorceress yelled, her voice silencing the excited masses surrounding them. The guards stopped in their tracks and looked on with intrigue. "To be manipulated so easily. To turn against your own prince." She turned, facing said man and began approaching, the knights around her cautiously following.

The young man looked on with confusion, wondering just what was going through her head.

A detached voiced filled the air once again, now from right in front of him. "He is but a mere pawn, I took control of him to do my bidding." She announced, turning her head from the crowd to directly into his eyes. "A quick enchantment to rid myself of the current king and install this 'puppet' in his place." She said it coldly, but her eyes only spoke of sorrow and remorse to the prince. "You give him too much credit. I am the one controlling him, not the other way around. I assure you."

He opened his mouth to say something but was cut off.

"It astounds me how even the queen would turn against her son so haphazardly." The sorceress glared at the dark woman, her mouth falling slightly open at the words of the young woman. Her younger son sat beside her, carrying a grime expression as well.

Then a shout filtered through the astounded crowd, "Hang the sorceress and free the prince from her spell!"

A few grunts of agreement soon turned to a deafening roar as the crowd communally called from the death of the dark haired maiden.

"What are you doing?" He asked in utter desperation, only the accused woman to hearing him among the shrill yells of the onlookers.

She turned slightly but her gaze landed on the wooden planks beneath her feet. "What I have to."

Before another thought crossed his mind, two rough arms grabbed her on each side and led her to the gallows as the delighted cheers of the townspeople accompanied, eager for the long awaited execution.

"Stop!" The prince yelled as he gathered himself to follow them, but was meet with a strong grip around his waist from behind.

As he struggled, a feminine hand lightly touched his shoulder. Caught off guard, he looked to see its owner and was met with a fearful pale face. "You'll be free of her spell soon enough, my prince." His fiancée told him with a sad smile. "The sorceress will soon be dead."

The young man shook his head violently and looked upward towards the opposite end of the monstrous platform, surrounded by the crowd. He could feel his heart stop as the sorceress looked forward emotionlessly, a burlesque man securing a rope around her neck. The man walked away from her, almost surreally, toward a wood lever on the opposite edge of the gallows.

"Don't let him! You don't understand!" he begged at the young woman standing next to him, but was only met with a sad, yet determined glance. With another unsuccessful push against the stone-like grip he was entrapped by, the prince heard a sickening creaking sound accompanied by the sorceress' form dropping downward a few feet.

All at once, the town below cheered and the prince was set free from the knight's grip. An embrace meant to be comforting landed on one of his arms but the sensation was succumbed by a numbness that overtook the soon-to-be ruler.

"You're free now. The spell no longer binds you." The woman standing next to him whispered, arms wrapped around his own with hopefulness.

The prince's eyes didn't falter from the still form that hung on public display. "Yes, no longer."

The End


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